Hell Is Cold
by 3LittleMuffinMen
Summary: Complete OC His entire life was an experiment, but he knew that from the start. His death however, was something completely unexpected. With a lot of time to kill, and a chain that extends into eternity, what the hell is a Whole to do but to follow the one thing he regrets?
1. Mr Rotten

Howls, explosions, and groans of disappointment could be heard throughout the long white hallway. A stray puff of blue smoke could be seen hovering underneath a ceiling light, slightly blocking its artificial rays. Three doors lined each side of the hallway, each spaced ten feet apart.

Personal labs didn't really help production of Hollows, but it gave the Fourth Squad interesting reports on other things. Bankai enhancement was discovered in the labs, as well as Kido shields, Hollow bait, and other meticulous things. Even the theory of the Hollow Room had been created in these small areas of personal thinking where your psychotic thoughts could run free. It was like your own time to be mad scientist.

Making its resting place at the end of the long hallway was a much larger lab. Although still part of the personal lab complex, it was nearly three times the size of the average personal labs.

In the middle of this lab, calmly humming to himself was Decci. His goggles were smeared with an uncountable number of fluids and substances. His lab coat, once a pure white, was now a dirty messed up bundle of the condiments of the rainbow. His under shirt questionably remained spotless. His hair, for once, was freshly combed and not the messy bush it usually was. With a look of absolute faith, he pushed a large yellow button on one of the many large machines.

The large console began to hum before shrieking in a flurry of mechanically produced wind and electrical sparks. The machine was attached to a large containment cell. Surrounded by random body parts, there was a disheveled hollow lurking inside the cell, smashing its fists against the transparent glass sides. It gave one last look of complete hatred and despair at the smiling lieutenant before completely disintegrating in a large bolt of green light.

The machine whirred to a stop. Two pipes attached to the left side of the machine spewed out disgusting amounts of blue sludge, stray bits catching the hem of Decci's lab coat and pooling underneath his feet. Reaching down with one finger, Decci scooped up a small bit of the liquid. He stared at it for a few seconds before putting the dripping goop into his mouth. He immediately grimaced in disgust. He briskly walked towards his messy desk.

With well-practiced reflexes, he marked an X on a clipboard. He jumped backwards into an old chair and spun in circles, pondering how to make his twisted experiment work. Lost in thought, he rubbed his eyelids and stroked his hair as he contemplated whatever it is that psychos contemplate. His thoughts were promptly interrupted as his barricaded door was kicked open, and the squelch of wet rain boots ran down the stairs leading down from the entrance to his desk.

Decci didn't need to open his eyes to expect who was there and what she was about to do. A loud thump and the sound of whimpers proved his theory correct. Opening his eyes, he turned his vision to the small girl on the disgusting floor. Her black hair was messy, and her dirty white raincoat was now stained with much more than mud. Her eyes were teary as she looked at Decci expectantly. There was a faint blush to her cheeks that grandparents would only describe as "precious," and her whimpers were more pitiful than a kicked puppy's. Lifted above her head, her hands precariously balanced on them a bag labeled only with the word "Dunkin."

Sighing, Decci stood up and scooped the little girl from her fallen position. She grinned with satisfaction as she was seated in the old spinny chair, remembering when she had retrieved it from the living world.

"I thought I told you to stay out of Hueco Mundo," Decci started, trying to put on a stern expression that bad parents try to attempt.

The little girl immediately pouted before replying, "One, just because I look like a little girl doesn't mean I am one. Two, I'm your third seat for a reason. I can take care of myself you know. Stop being such an old fart."

They stared at each other with the faces of a child and a concerned father. They barely lasted five seconds before breaking out in laughter. The little girl's tiny legs flailed in midair, didn't reach the ground, and Decci steadied himself by putting his hand on his desk.

Decci took the bag from her and placed it upon his desk. He took out the coffee and took a deep sip before turning to the little girl and giving her the troll face. "And that, little girl, is why you don't bet with Decci. You'll lose," he said as he patted her on the head condescendingly.

"Hmph! Well I didn't think Marcy would die so quickly!" She crossed her arms and pouted. Hope sprang in her eyes as she offered, "C'mon, double or nothing. We'll bet on Chad this time!"

"Who?" Decci asked as he looked up.

"You know? Chad? Chad Fromaccounting?"

Her hopes crashed and burned as he laughed and held up the dismembered head of the late Chad Fromaccounting.

"I take it that's another week of unlimited coffee runs and no your mother jokes?" Triumphantly, he watched as she nodded with an "O God Why" look on her face.

"What ya trying to do?" she asked, trying to change the subject, a jelly-filled munchkin in her hand. Blue sludge covered most of the ground, the glass container was slowly draining the mass of body parts, and the desk seemed to be collapsing due to the weight of paper and munchkins.

"Capture the Reishi from Hollows and place it into a liquid substance. Just think, if we were able to inject it into our blood stream, the Reishi wouldn't be able to be denied by our blood cells. This would allow us to be able to regain some of our former Hollow abilities," Decci explained. The little girl clambered onto his shoulders as he turned his back to her, and walked back to the machine. Her dirty coat smudged the back of his head, and she clumped his hair in her tiny fists.

"I thought you were supposed to be the genius," she said, sounding sassy as hell. "Hollows don't need to be disintegrated to release they're Reishi, you can just drain they're Reishi from the sands in Hueco Mundo. There's enough of their cells and residue to do the job. Then you can release it into our ventilation systems, instead of force feeding that stuff to everyone," the little girl said. She leaned back and smiled to herself in satisfaction at the braid she had made in his hair.

There was an awkward silence as Decci played the theory over in his head. _Air particles would take a bit longer to get a concentrated amount into our blood streams and systems, but it is faster to just do that. _Decci smiled as he walked away from the machine and pressed a button in the wall behind his desk. A microphone popped out.

"I need at least ten units to gather Hollow Reishi from the sand. That means you gathering squad. I expect full reports and samples by tomorrow," Decci intoned. He could hear his own voice echo down the hallway.

"Now, down to business," Decci said as he stroked his imaginary beard and twiddled his fingers in a malicious-mafioso-boss manner. "How's our precious little subject?"

Abby climbed off of his shoulders and pulled up a chair. She sat down and pondered for a second before responding, "You mean Bobby Vinton?"

"Did you seriously name him Bobby?" Decci asked with a "what-the-fuck" face.

A facepalm was initiated by Abby before she responded, "He's the guy that sang Mr. Lonely. Of course I wouldn't name him Bobby, that's a girls name!"

Decci breathed a sigh of relief as she continued.

"I think the orphanage called him Erick, but I just decided to name him Soli instead," Abby continued. There was a nod from Decci, and she grabbed a munchkin and chewed it slowly. It seemed an eternity before she swallowed, and when she spoke, she failed to meet his gaze, instead staring down at her twiddling thumbs. "He kind of didn't get adopted for a while."

"Probably because of how you chased all the parents that wanted to adopt him away," Decci said with another swig of coffee.

"Yeah, but I let him get adopted eventually," Abby said with a grin.

"By alcoholics… two times if I recall from your reports. Great job on that by the way," Decci said approvingly.

"He's kind of cute now that he's older, but I feel like he's way too awkward around girls," she said, completely disregarding the previous comment.

"The keeping him away from the other kids at school obviously didn't have anything to do with his social skills."

"Oh, c'mon Decci. Don't be so negative. He'll be ready for the transfer in a week," Abby replied with a smile as she took the last of the munchkins. "You know what that means!"

Decci nodded. They proceeded to do a long and complicated handshake, consisting of high fives, a long round of patty cake, footsy and gang signs before finishing in an exploding fist bump as they both whispered "Vacation!"

"I was actually recently told that what we've been doing is kind of illegal up in Soul Society," Decci said after they had finished their victory dance. "Apparently fucking with humans lives isn't healthy. Can you believe that?"

They laughed for a little while. Everything that Hell had done so far was breaking the rules of the Soul Society to some extent, but nothing had ever happened before.

"Take me home, I'm tired," she ordered after they stopped laughing. She faced Decci with a cheeky grin. Once again acting sassy as hell, she looked up at the blond psychopath expectantly.

Decci swept Abby off her feet and carried her out of the lab. She pounded on his chest with her tiny fists and jokingly cried out "Raaape!" as he cradled her out of the laboratory.

The gates of Hell were already open by the time he was on the dunes of Hueco Mundo.

"You're old enough to walk into hell without me now I think," Decci said, letting her down in front of the gaping hole.

She smiled and punched him in the leg as she replied, "Have the hotel and Gigais picked out by next week. Oh, but I don't want to go to Las Vegas again, the drinks there make you act like Will Ferrel."

"'You are a smelly pirate hooker,' and little girls shouldn't know about drinking," he responded with a smile as she took a step forward. A cute little grin and a middle finger was all he saw before the gates closed and disappeared. The sands of Hueco Mundo were quiet once more as Decci stalked back into his laboratory.

HELL IS COLDER THAN ICE CREAM

Abby sat at her desk. The paperwork she had been assigned towered over her as she tried to focus on one page at a time. To her despair, the captain had demanded it done by tomorrow.

Her desk was a total mess, similar to Decci's except for the phone that lay near the edge. Her nameplate stood at the front of her desk proudly: "Abby, 3rd Seat of Squad 4 – Hollow Production Assistant Manager."

"Yes Captain Benedetta, I'll have it all done by tomorrow," she intoned sweetly into the phone.

"Oh, and Decci told me that the Shinigami representatives are coming in a few days to check up on us," she finished. The captain murmured a few more words before hanging up and leaving Abby to a mountain of boredom.

Sighing and turning away from her far-from-finished paperwork, she turned to look out her window. Hell wasn't exactly a pleasant sight. It wasn't all fire and groaning Hollows, but it still didn't help that most of the life came from the sinners of the planet. It was like a big criminal convention, except it was held every day. The scum and stupidity of the human world never ceased to amaze her, even if it did entertain her.

Stretching beyond the compound of Hell's first level was the Hollow Room. From the outside, the infamous Hollow Room was a large black box. Inside was quite different. There were no limits to its size and everywhere you looked, there would be Hollows. It was a true gladiator's arena, and it was constantly refilled due to the amount of sin in the world. All Hollows that actually made it out alive were given a chance to become a Hellion.

To the left of the Hollow Room was the Second Squad's compound. The squads were generally kept far away from each other. Too many violent things could happen.

Abby didn't notice any of this. She was too used to it. She saw Second Squads compound and the Hollow room every day and at this point they were just a part of the scenery.

What she still wasn't used to was the lack of the moon. She just stared out the window at the empty space where it should have been. She had never been one of those girls who could get happy by looking at the stars or the moon. She had never even noticed the existence of it. Sure, sometimes when it was full it could have been pretty, but it was just the moon. It had been part of the scenery, just like the squad compound and the Hollow Room. But, now it wasn't. It was completely gone, torn from the fabric of logic and everything that spoke from her memory.

She licked some sugar off of her lips before turning away from the window and climbing back onto her chair. The ocean of lab reports, complaints, bills, announcements, wanted posters, and testing schedules smiled at her patiently before swallowing her for the night.

**This is the pinnacle of two years of effort, revision, deleting, scrapping, starting from scratch and all of that other shit. Hope you enjoy, RandR, flamers do your thing, and gay comic relief for the win. Thank you very much ArchxDeath for your undying patience and ur unparalleled perverted ass jokes. May the wangs of angry black men be filled forever. :D Awkward armadillos, Evil Ugly Yaks, and Girafarigs for everyone. **

**PS No offense to any guys named Bobby and Erick. **


	2. Sixteen and Dead and Pregnant

**3:37 PM**

_Click_. A simple sound begins the cycle. Strapped black high heels move across the pavement at a leisurely pace. At the same time in a dirty basement, a black pistol is switched off of safety. With a firm hand upon its stomach and bullets stuck in its throat, the beast is ready to cough.

The moments pass slowly, dramatically, as the two beings come closer and closer. Clicking heels here. Silence there. The teen of only sixteen that is ready to kill. He lifts the weapon and points it at the door before bending his wrist. The child looks at his watch impatiently.

_She's already five minutes late, _he thinks to himself. The handle grows slippery in his tense, clammy grip.

She bends down to tighten one of her heels. _I've got plenty of time. _She smiles at the thought.

**3:40 PM**

A van rolls up by the girl. She looks about fifteen with her long black hair and her eyebrow piercings. Her lips are set in a thin line as the bearded man in the passenger seat asks, "Want some candy?" He smiles menacingly and slowly pulls out a knife from behind the car door.

She stops and spares him a glance. "Any Skittles?"

Back inside, the boy scowls. The gun is placed back on safety and stuck into the front of his pants. The beast swallows the irritating objects caught in its throat. Covered by the shirt, the bulge merely looks like his boner. _Fuck her if she's not coming. I'll do this alone._ Another dysfunctional thought in the mind of the troubled teenager. The door is opened slowly, and the boy faces the steep set of stairs.

**3:41 PM**

The back door of the white van opens slightly, displaying a glimpse of the horrors that have occurred in the past sixty seconds. Blood stains the walls and a beard lay on the floor right next to a still-beating heart. A red set of high heel tracks leads to a middle-class house and promptly disappears at the doorway.

Waiting behind the door, he hears muffled thumps from the next room. With relief he turns the doorknob and steps into the kitchen, a place that he has never once seen in his life. Pots and plates lie on the table; a meal has been prepared. The sounds of grunts and whimpers attract his attention, and he turns to go into the living room.

HELL IS COLDER THAN ICE CREAM

All time seemed to stop as Soli stepped in. He turned the handle, and three pairs of eyes turned to meet his. Two pairs, one male, one female, stared at him pleadingly, questioning him earnestly. "How could you do this to us?" they seemed to ask. He recognized those eyes. He had seen the exact same expression when the male had whipped out a pocket mirror and faced it to Soli during one of their "sessions."

Now the male and female were both chained to wooden chairs with the same handcuffs they had used to terrorize him in his past. The same towels that gagged them also stuck out from his memory. He turned to the third person in the room.

Sickening pleasure seemed to darken the third pair of eyes. Even while covered slightly by a lock of long black hair, they seemed to shine with a sick sense of justice.

"What took you so long?" she asked playfully, tilting her head and placing a hand on her hip. "It's rude to keep a lady waiting."

He shrugged. "I didn't even know you'd be a lady," he said as he drew the gun and pointed it at the captives.

Their grunts went from pain to panic in less than a second. With just one movement, they had been transformed from a middle-aged couple in danger to a middle-aged couple pleading for their lives. Tears began to stream down their cheeks as they desperately tried to scream for help.

Soli watched them struggle. Spasms of movement, fueled by their adrenaline. It was pitiful. Like animals, they lashed against the ropes that held them, and like animals, they continued to no avail. They struggled and squirmed, trying to muster some hidden strength that would save them, some kind of otherworldly energy that would burst through their bodies and take them away from this peril. No such luck. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, and their legs kicked at the chair legs desperately. Wincing and squeezing their eyelids shut, they didn't see Soli taking something out of his pocket.

A small hand mirror was withdrawn, and he held it to his face. His eyes had changed. No fear, no anger, not a speck of vengeance. All he saw was acceptance and understanding. _I'm ready, _he thought.

In a quick motion he had grabbed the man's head. Eyes flew open in shock, and the mirror was brought close to his face. His eyes grew wide in shock at the sight of himself.

"Remember this in Hell," he said quietly. His voice dropped down to a whisper, yet it was clearly audible through the desperate ruckus. It was in a voice so cold that the room seemed to freeze. A chill tickled Abby's spine as she bit a lock of her hair and watched the boy move back and raise his arm.

For the second time that day, time seemed to stop. He went deaf as continuous bolts of impact and recoil shook his arm. Lightning made the house tremble as the beast let out sneeze after sneeze. As his arm shook, he could feel his sanity disappearing into darkness piece by piece. Hearing the final _click,_ his arm dropped to his side.

The two stared at their handiwork. It was a grotesque display, each brushstroke made by the grace and simplicity of a bullet. Soli could feel his back straighten as the burden lifted. In that moment, he seemed to shatter like the shards of his rationality. For that one instant, the world was silent. Pure bliss filled him at the sudden silence, but in a heartbeat, it was torn away as reality came crashing down on him again.

Abby watched him as he took in a deep breath and tried to keep his head above the deep waters of madness.

"Now what?" Soli asked. His voice slightly wavered, a bit shaken from his deeds, yet it had a curious, almost hopeful pitch to it.

_The first bit of emotion he feels and its after he kills someone. He's going to need some serious ass marijuana, _she thought as she took his face in her hands and lifted it to face her.

As she began to speak, her answer was drowned out by the sound of sirens. Walking out, they were faced with the sounds of the popo as well as the sight of the faces peering out from the windows at the two criminals. Both of their clothes had been smothered with the color red, and the evidence was more than enough to convict them both of murder. Cameras clicked photos, and some even recorded videos. The two continued to walk at a slow pace as the sirens arrived. Red and blue lights flashed throughout the street like a war between the crips and the bloods.

"Get down and put your hands on your head!" screamed an officer. His door to the squad car was left open, and his gun was out of its holster. Another officer was standing behind his car door with a boomstick. His cheap shades hid his eyes, but his lip shivered at the sight of the two convicts. A boy fresh into his teens and a young girl no older were murderers. _What a cruel world,_ he thought as the officers approached the two.

"Everything you say can and will be used against you," Abby muttered under her breath as cuffs clicked around her wrists and she was brought into the back of a vehicle. Cameras continued to roll as the black and white cars sped out of the neighborhood. Detectives stayed to do their duty and took pictures of the crime scene as little numbered stands were placed around the bodies.

"Male and female of about thirty. Can I get a background check on the victims?" one of the detectives asked to an officer. He wore a Kevlar bullet-proof vest underneath his black overcoat. He was tall and his eyes scanned the scene with disinterest and boredom. His cold calculating stare was answered by a quick "Yes sir" as the young cop ran to his car radio.

His partner watched the rookie flee while snapping a picture from a bird's eye view. "You seem kind of stressed, what's been in your ass?" He was shorter, and his fedora was merely there to make him feel smarter. He stroked his moustache and tried to look as if he was contemplating.

The tall one looked at his companion with unease. "You felt it right?" His gaze was calm, the same as it had ever been as he asked the slightly unorthodox question.

There was a nod from the shorter one. "How high do you guesstimate?" he asked in response. There was a moment's pause as they both thought it out in their heads.

"I'm guessing lieutenant class at the very least," the taller one stated as he snapped another picture of the bodies and wrote something down in his notepad.

There was another nod from the short one. "Yeah, most of the majority of the time you're right about this kind of shit," he agreed while taking off his fedora and running a hand through his hat hair. "Think we should go after her? We're strong enough," he continued while pulling out a thin badge with a skull imprinted on one side.

"No, let Soul Society deal with this. We fight Hollows, not little girls," the tall one responded.

"Sometimes we do" was his only response, and it was received by a reminiscent look of joy as they both recalled the events. Their idle chit-chat stopped there after the shorter one gave his _aibou_ a spank and walked downstairs to the basement.

HELL IS COLDER THAN ICE CREAM

"You are not the convicts we are looking for," the officer finished as he tossed the key for the handcuffs to the backseat. His eyes were groggy, as if he had just woken up after being roofied. The nausea in his voice could be heard like the overly dramatic click that had occurred several minutes ago.

After removing their handcuffs, the two walked out of the squad car as the officer drove away flamboyantly into the sunset.

"Did you see that? I totally just Obi-Wan Kenobi'd him," Abby said proudly. Her arms were crossed as she shook her shoulders and strutted down the sidewalk with Soli. He merely gave her a shrug in response and put his hands into his pockets.

They strolled through the neighborhood until they reached a slightly more urban area. Upon the steps of a Seven-Eleven, they watched the world as it flew by them. They watched as a young man spray-painted his nickname in large red letters. They watched a little kid cry for ice cream. They watched rich businessmen walk stiffly, and they watched poor gangsters showing off their swaggers. Until the sun was grabbed by the hands of the horizon, Soli soaked everything in. And as the moon floated to the heavens on an endless ocean of stars, they watched the street lights flicker on, lighting their visions to couples who were out, and hobos who needed places to sleep.

Not even then did they move. As midnight took its turn, nightclubs lit their signs, and bars turned on their colorful beer mugs. The worker at the Seven-Eleven, a young Caucasian female, walked out to be replaced by a middle-aged Asian man. They watched as cars flew across streets on the distant highway. They watched as a man pulled out a guitar and strummed a few chords while lightly humming to himself. They watched as a short man got rejected by several girls and yelled to his taller companion, "SHE WAS REALLY UGLY, I'LL FIND YOU A BETTER ONE!" The taller one promptly pretended not to know him. They watched a group of drunks walk out, smiling and linking shoulders, and as he watched this, Soli nodded.

He turned to Abby and said, "I'm ready." His calm and cool tone was the voice of a content man. His sanity seemed to have repaired itself in the montage of human behavior, and he stared at her deeply, a small glint of hope appearing in his eyes.

She smiled as she nodded in response and pulled out another gun, this one silver. She patted Soli on the head, similar to the way that Decci usually patted hers.

"Remember who to avoid?" she quizzed for the last time. She had made him memorize several of these passages and not once had she ever gotten a response. She watched Soli as he looked up at her and swallowed.

"Black kimonos," Soli answered.

On that note, the peace was once again disturbed as a loud crack of an explosion lit up the night. People screamed as the Puerto Rican boy fell with a bullet in his brain, and nothing but life imprinted upon his face. His eyes were closed as his head slowly fell back to hit the concrete step. The blood pooled around him as his face grew pale.

The monster known as panic grew bigger and bigger as it fed off the screams of the civilians and drank from the river of pandemonium. It set to work on the vulnerable rationality of the crowd. They all had one common thought: run. And that's what they did. Everyone ran, people pushing and shoving to get away from this illegal teenager with a gun.

Abby watched all this from the same spot before raising the gun once more towards the night sky and screaming, "Fuck the Po-Lice!" As she emptied her clip, she removed herself from her Gigai. It fell lifeless next to the child she had killed, and with that freedom, she walked through the crowd.

Tall and thin, her figure was imposing and screamed out the words "good girl gone bad." Looking about the age of twenty, she flipped the collar up on her white trench coat and walked away like a bad bitch. The scabbard of her Zanpakto peeking out from beneath the bottom of her trench coat, she strutted with the wind brushing back her coat tails in such a manner that Seto Kaiba would be jealous of her posing. Stepping through the atmosphere and using the wind as footholds, she reached the hole in the sky with ease. With one last glance at the dead body of Soli, she stepped into the hole and disappeared.

HELL IS COLDER THAN ICE CREAM

It was dark when the Whole opened his heavy eyes. Standing up, he brushed himself off. His clothes were still stained with blood, and his forehead had a hole in it. He reached behind his head until he felt the sticky exit wound.

_So this is death,_ he thought with a sigh. It was only when he went to take a deep breath that he faced the reality and magnitude of his situation.

He couldn't breathe.

A scream. Glass shattering. Screeching like logic, telling him to close his eyes. Soli let loose sharply. Gnashing, grinding, biting, it infused the air with panic. Chaos filled him. Attacked him. Broke him. Made him fall to his knees, clutching at his chest, searching desperately for life. _Heartbeat? Maybe here, or here__,__ or here. _Pandemonium smashed into his mind. Crazy trains of thought, going off the rails, before screeching to a halt.

There was silence as the boy opened his eyes with his hand on his chest, mouth partially open as a seed of regret entered his heart. His panicked state dissipated for a second as he gripped the long golden chain. It was only an instant before it returned with a vengeance.

"What hell is this?" he attempted to gasp. Stuttering with surprise and exploding with uncertainty, he choked out the words with the small bit of control he held over his own body. Regret crushed his bones as he gripped the chain tighter. It sucked him dry of emotion as he struggled to push it away. "Why doesn't this hurt?!" he cried out. He grabbed his neck in an attempt to asphyxiate himself but failed miserably.

There was another moment of silence as he fought to calm down. There was no panting; just silence as he stood up and placed his arms to his sides.

_Be calm,_ he thought. _Abby said this was normal. _Without the ability to breathe in, he tried lifting his chest and then letting it fall. _I am free to do anything she said. _Another thought crossed his mind before he grabbed the chain once more. He was immediately overtaken by the feeling of regret as it flowed into his mind and wiggled its way into his heart. _Free to do what I wish, she said._

His eyes traced the chain until it left his sight. Mindset back to its steady state, he placed his feet forward and made his way towards the end of the chain. The stars twinkled from above, taunting him along as the gloomy face of the moon just stared ahead into infinity.

**Chapter two. Hope you enjoy and remember to Review :)**

**O and for those who don't know, the HELL IS COLDER THAN ICE CREAM is a transition between scenes**


	3. Rebel May Cry

Four black walls were raised. Weaving in and out of the fabrics of his imagination, the simple sentences constructed a room full of stadium seats, tightened the seams of a wooden stage, stitched every little spotlight onto the ceiling. From the depths of darkness filed in a long line of parents, their hushed murmurs brushing Soli's ears as he leaned against a wall. Slowly, this steady stream of adults, supporting friends, and children took their seats. Squeaks sounded as chairs were pulled down, followed shortly by the grinding of rusty pulleys as red curtains rose. Three rows of pasty-faced zitty teenagers stood upon the old risers.

Face glittering with sweat, a short teacher walked up to the microphone, a plastic smile on his face. Shout-outs to supporters, a few thanks to the parents, and then more polite applause before a piano began to play. Soli gave a sigh of boredom as the teenagers started snapping their fingers and swaying to the music, but slowly raised his eyebrow as the show began.

"I started with the back row in the left part of the auditorium."

Soli turned. Meeting his gaze was the sight of six sleeping parents, their heads lowered over their chests. Followed by a seventh, it was obvious that there was more to it than just bad manners. One by one, the parents dropped their heads. From a distance they appeared to be sleeping, using the small time they had before they returned to their jobs for long hours of paperwork. If only it were so trivial.

Before the first thirty seconds had passed, eighteen people would have been considered impolite. A smiling teenage boy with a shaved head cleared his throat as he walked down the aisle, a silenced pistol in his hands. Turning their heads, the audience was instantly struck by the illness known as panic. Soli listened to the rusty chains of pandemonium as they began to shake.

"Of course, there was a bit of ruckus after they saw me."

It was in a short instant that the chains snapped. Discord played a small but effective rift, and chaos sang its solo: a high-pitched tune, weaving in and out of the heavy baritone voice of death. Calm, cool, and collected he was as he strode through the valley of terror-stricken men and women; nothing seemed to faze him. He stopped in front of the stage where the choir had gone silent.

"Rebeldo?" one of the voices asked, confusion painting the question with a shade of disbelief. He turned around and smiled at the panic-stricken performer.

"Fortunately, I was able to stop them with a bit of threatening."

The comment was followed by an aggressive "Shut up!" Soli watched as the boy slowly pointed the gun at an old man before putting his index finger to his lips. Miimicking the cowering conductor, he requested that the show go on with a wave of his finger.

Shocked and uncertain, the choir members nervously glanced at each other, sweat dripping down their foreheads. None of them made a move. With a sigh the teen pointed his gun, and each of them shakily continued the jubilant song. The accompaniment was off by several notes, but no one seemed to notice. Background music taken care of, he then turned to face the crowd.

"Naturally people tried to call the cops. I caught one person and made an example of her."

A girl was frantically dialing 911 into her cellphone. Her back had been turned and the small device was frantically shaking in her trembling grip. Slowly reaching over her shoulder, Rebeldo's hand slinked its way to her phone. She immediately jumped back, shocked by his sudden move, her hands clenching her last lifeline desperately.

Smiling, Rebeldo made his way to her trembling form before viciously slapping her across the face. She dropped her cellphone and screamed as he placed a knife in her mouth. Smiling, he kissed her cheek before making quick work of her face, snipping bits here, slicing pieces there. With light, graceful strokes and high-pitched shrieks her cute face had been transformed into a Halloween decoration. The head was held up, and all cellphones were dropped. An infant began to cry. At the boy's feet lay the forgotten cellphone, lighting the floor with the calling screen.

"Things just went from there. Seriously, you have no idea how easy it was to turn a group of twenty people into ruthless killers."

With a swish of his blade, the teen pointed at people from the crowd, motioning for them to come to the stage in front of the choir. Men, women, children, and adults came from the audience, their bodies shaking as they choked out hopeless grunts. Lovers clung to them, begging them to stay, only to be met with lies of false safety and cliché movie lines that no one ever believed.

Spinning his finger around, the boy gave the universal of circle forming. They shakily assembled themselves to stare at a common point in the center, the distinct smell of fear and the rancid sound of hatred rolling off of them. The bloody knife was thrown into the center of the circle, and for a moment everything was still. The group's members stared at each other, acknowledging each other's existences. A nod, a little look of understanding, even a little wave, but none of them made any movements.

Soli heard the boy cough awkwardly before saying, "You can start now." There was more silence. There were a few quick gulps from the participants, obviously hoping that the teen didn't mean what they were thinking. Blond hair and green eyes spun to charge at the teenager. Surprisingly, even with his back turned, Rebeldo was able to trip the middle-aged man.

"You can't make us kill each other," he sputtered. His eyes were shaded with uncertainty, and panic. "We won't do it," he continued, trying to egg on the rest of the group to follow his lead. None of them stepped forward. None of them stood with him. Hope spilled out from him, urging the others to help, to step forward. Human nature, unfortunately, had other things in mind.

Rebeldo sighed and eyed the man up and down. Hiding his disappointment, he looked down with closed eyes. The assembled members were silent as he raised his head.

"I said you can start now," he snapped. He stepped forward and plunged a second knife deep into the man's stomach.

The wishful sense of hope was dyed a deep crimson.

Clutching his stomach, the man screamed as he was struck with jolts of madness and thick waves of agony. His life came flowing out in torrents, slickly spilling from the open wound upon the stage. Listening to his animal-like sounds, the crowd shivered in its skin. Despite this, no one stepped forward. No lifelines were given. He was left to his despair as people watched.

No time was wasted by any of the other members as they ran for the knife. Children, teenagers, grown members of society, it didn't matter. In the end they had been reduced to beasts. Shaking the floor, the nineteen survivors charged at the weapon in desperate attempts to keep the title. Rebeldo stood back to watch, applauding those smart enough to find more efficient ways of killing. Each of them attacked with unnatural ease.

"It wasn't random, believe me."

Soli did believe him as he watched the people bash, stab, choke, and break their so-called "neighbors." He could feel it: bullies receiving death from the nerds that they abused, employees telling bosses to shut the fuck up. They weren't fighting for their lives; they were fighting for the sake of revenge.

"They all held some kind of grudge. I just needed to add a little fuel to their intent."

Soli stayed silent as he heard the cries. Pain, cruelty; he felt it radiate from the stockpile. Blood stained the white dress shirts of the choir, and screams filled the night as nineteen "civilized" human beings became brutes armed only with the will to live. They tore at each other's clothes, stomping at those unfortunate enough to slip, grappling for the shining kitchen tool. The small conflict didn't last long. In a matter of minutes, nineteen men and women had died. There was a sigh.

"Soon enough the cops arrived, and you know what that means."

Swallowing slowly, Soli nodded. He knew they would be waiting outside for the murderer, their clips full and their guns drawn. They didn't disappoint. The sound of sirens rang from the outside, muffled by the thick walls of the auditorium. With hope in their minds and prayers on their way to heaven, the crowd held their breath and hoped: hoped that the boy would just give up, hoped that the cops would bust through the door, hoped that everything would be fine.

The sound of justice and civil protection only grew in size and volume as they approached closer. "Come out with your hands up!" came the demand. It was a gruff voice, one that had seen too many corpses and heard too many bullets fired. Smiling at the request, Rebeldo shrugged and walked out the door labeled EXIT. Soli followed the boy as he left the school, each step clicking against the tiles before he exited the establishment. The front door opened, then closed.

"They didn't even give me a chance."

There was an instant of peace before explosions and shocked cries filled the night. The sound of blood dripping down the steps in torrents, the taste of sorrow as victims were escorted out of the auditorium, the sight of pure evil as he died away on the steps of his school—they all painted a bloody scene in the memories of the spectators. Policemen in blue uniforms covered their faces, not wanting to look at the creature that could have condoned such brutality. The people were swept away, driven to hospitals by their sorrow, but with the scars of humanity fresh in their minds.

"So, what do you think?"

Opening his eyes, Soli faced the killer. A wiry child, with arms skinny like chopsticks and eyes glimmering like diamonds, met his cynical gaze. Grinning cockily, he let Soli take his appearance in.

"You likey?" he asked, cackling as he jumped around the rubble, waving his arms in the air. "C'mon you have to have something to say!"

He pinched Soli's cheek as he jumped down from a dirty couch. Seemingly shocked by the lack of response to his oversized ego, he asked slowly, "You retarded or something?" He scanned Soli's eyes, searching for a competent thought.

Soli slowly lifted his hand and removed Rebeldo's grimy fingers. Stepping back, he sat down next to a cracked lamp and a shattered picture frame. Rebeldo followed, grabbing a green pillow before hunching forward with his legs crossed.

"C'mon bitch, what do you got?" he taunted, a pathetic attempt at a response. "Let's go retard, spit it out, I know you got something to say." He tweaked Soli's nose, looking into Soli's narrowed pupils to no avail. Moving his hand to fluff the boy's hair, he was finally met with a response.

He stepped back, coughing in surprise as Soli swiftly slapped him across the cheek. Nursing his wounded cheek, he stared at the silent boy.

"Did you just...?" he forced out, his voice breaking half in laughter, half with a disbelieving cough. A red mark had appeared on his white complexion, and he rubbed the spot slowly. Eyes wide, mouth open with lips slightly lifted in an uncertain grin, he stood up before making his way towards Soli. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he came close to Soli's face, a hair's width separating their noses. "Did you just slap me?" he sputtered, saliva making contact with Soli's cheeks.

Soli slowly lifted his head, making eye contact before nodding. A displeased scowl pulled at his tightly drawn lips as he wiped the spit from his face. "Yes, I just slapped you."

Rebeldo coughed once more before backing away and crossing his arms. There was a moment of silence before he opened his mouth. Lips slowly formed the words, emphasizing each and every syllable: "I'm going to fuck you up." Standing up, he walked over to a wooden chair that had been clenched between a rusting music stand and an old amplifier. "Little bitch, I'll show you why I killed those people. They were pussies like you."

Lifting the chair over his head, he charged at Soli, stepping over broken microwaves and radios. His feet crunched against the gravel as he raced towards the defenseless boy. He laughed as he brought it down upon Soli's motionless form.

There was a flat crack as it made impact with Soli's outstretched hand, and then a dull thud as it split in half. The rotten wood broke away in Rebeldo's hands, the seat, and legs disassembling before coming to a broken heap by their feet. They stayed silent, waiting, waiting for another attack, a comment, waiting for anything to shatter the silence that had wrapped itself around the two.

Hand aching and blood dripping down his wrist, Soli stood and faced the other boy. Smug, cocky―his expression was infuriating. Soli could feel himself desperately holding back from tearing off the other boy's lips. Instead, he tackled him.

"Oomph!" Rebeldo fell back as Soli pinned him down by his throat. Sputtering, he tried to fight back, only to be met with an iron grip and a monument of writhing anger on top of him. Struggling to prevent himself from breaking the boy's neck, Soli rammed his frame into the skinny boy, receiving a grunt of pain and a spray of blood.

He slapped the boy once more, and then again with a vicious backhand. Flying loose, three teeth were discarded into the rubble as the boy cried out in pain. Soli maneuvered himself on top of the boy, twisting Rebeldo's arms until the only movements they produced were vibrations of pain.

"Look, I don't care why you killed them. There is nothing you can say that can justify your reasons," he spat into Rebeldo's contorted face. Stretching the arms a little farther, he was able to squeeze another scream from the boy's lungs.

Gasping for breath that wasn't there, Rebeldo squirmed underneath Soli's hold. "Don't give me that," he choked out along with a trickle of blood. "I see that blood all over you." Jerking his body left and right, he continued, "Don't tell me that your reason is justifia―"

Another long scream followed as he was struck in the Adam's apple. He desperately struggled, tongue flicking out in strained agony. Blood, sweat, tears, saliva―it was all pooling near his shoulder as he spewed body fluids like a water hose.

"I have completely different reasons," Soli hissed. "I'm only killing you because it would be a sin to let you live!"

He released the boy's arms before jumping back. Free at last, Rebeldo clutched his stomach, fresh red bands imprinted on his wrists, blood staining his shirt even further. Soli didn't wait for the boy to recuperate.

"You would never understand!" he shouted over the boy's cries of pain. "You would never understand what it's like to never have choices!" Accompanied by a fierce kick to the face, the statement imprinted itself into Rebeldo's brain.

Despite the raging pain, Rebeldo cackled as he felt his nose break. Back arching at savage angles, he howled with laughter. "No choice?" he cried out. Every word burned his throat. Consonants drilled their ways through his teeth; vowels pounded the walls of his lungs. "You always have a choice!" he choked out. "I'll bet my ass that you―"

He was cut short by a shrill shriek as his rib cracked. Soli waited for the response with his fist raised. He didn't wait for long.

"―you can't take responsibility for what you did!"

Tensing his muscles, the boy waited for the strike. He waited for a whish of air before ghostly knuckles would crack into his flesh. He waited for another stomp to break his spine. He waited for the boys condescending tone to fill his ears, just like his peers.

It never came.

Looking up, he saw that Soli had stepped back. His face held a look of utter disbelief, yet Rebeldo saw that a million questions were racing through Soli's brain cells, neurons sending charges towards his rationality asking for explanations; all of it could be seen by the shock that was displayed within his eyes.

"Face it," Rebeldo said, grinning with difficulty. His eyebrow arched, and his teeth were bared as he stuttered out in pain, "Y-you can use your circumstance as an excuse all you want." Supporting himself with one arm, he laughed once more as Soli stepped back. "But, in truth you don't have the dick to admit it you did it because you wanted to."

Soli's mind began to freeze. _Bullshit, total bullshit. Kill this little bastard already, _he could hear a voice say. It screamed at him, tearing up his insides slowly as he fought to keep his fist at his side. _Your pain was planned! You had no choice!_

Screaming from his other ear, he could hear the opposition. _No, you did it because you wanted to. Worthless shit, this idiot has more dignity than you. _

Closing his mouth, Soli leaned on a desk with three legs for support. Rebeldo watched him struggle to stay awake. "Ready to admit it?" he asked, inching closer to the dazed teenager. "Ready to say that you're just like me?"

_Say it! Fuck that, kill him! _An endless battle of profanity filled his mind. Flying bullets of shame opened his mouth. Explosions clenched his fist. The cries of those living shook his legs. He could hear Rebeldo's shuffling coming closer and closer. Lifting his head, he faced the boy, face solemn and composure reconstructed.

He walked over to the boy, and cupped the boy's face in his palms. "I've already told you once," he whispered, trying to be soft with the dislocated cheek. "But I'll tell you one more time."

Raising his eyes, Rebeldo stared into Soli's black irises. He was met with pure hatred, enraged yet calm, irrational yet composed, explosive yet contained.

"I'm nothing like you."

And with that, Rebeldo's face was dropped. His broken body was left behind, a mass of pulpy flesh held together by saliva and blood. Shaking with pain and confusion, he watched as Soli walked away from him, footsteps thudding against the concrete.

"W-wait!" he cried out after the silent form. "Hey! Bitch!"

He could feel his bones turn to powder with each cry, calcium turning into finely tuned pain. "Come back!" he screamed, but just like in the beginning, he was met with silence. Desperately trying to inch forward, Rebeldo reached out with broken fingers. He clawed at the asphalt, dragging himself along screaming, "If it's a sin to let me live, why won't you kill me?"

Soli never turned back. The cries flew by his head like bullets, each one desperately close to home, but not enough for him to turn. Whispering underneath his breath, he walked away.

"Because I have been abandoned by those who created me." He could hear Rebeldo stop as internal bleeding burst through. A desperate last attempt for attention could be heard before whimpers. "And because..." Soli's lips quivered as the tears ran free. "...because I no longer have to try to care."

Crying, Soli walked away from the dying Whole.

_**Chapter three to this emonic installment. hope you enjoy :D**_

_**ArchXDeath you sonnuva bitch, thank you for enduring a month of this shit and helping me edit this. Much respect for having such patience.**_

_**RandR and thnx for reading :)**_


	4. For the Rainy Days

It was dark when they arrived. The sky, black with anger, let loose upon the Earth an endless torrent of elemental fury. Lightning bolts cackled as they clashed against the horizon. Flashing lights and sounds of thunder filled the dark night with the booming steps of giants. The wind forced its mass upon the large windows, desperately searching for an opening.

Decci glanced at his watch as the white house groaned and creaked. _They're late, _he thought, pacing around the room irritably.

It was a cozy house that he and Abby had rented for a few days. Providing the living room with light and crackly warmth, the fireplace proudly grinned from its place at the end of the room. Two large armchairs, fluffy but faded, lazily lounged about, calmly waiting for someone to sit in their laps. A sofa sat opposite them by its lonesome. Abby had been pleased with the small rooms but thoroughly disgusted by the giant moose-head that hung above the fireplace. It was one of the most stereotypical cozy houses in all of history, yet its ridiculously unoriginal antics seemed to pluck at their heartstrings. While the rug was a disgusting shade of purple, it was a minor setback from the rest that the house had to offer.

He looked up as Abby emerged from the kitchen holding a tray full of small china cups. She looked frail, as if she hadn't been eating properly. Giving a sigh, she sat down on one of the armchairs and laid the tray of cups on the coffee table in front of her.

"Why did we agree to meet these two again?" she asked wearily. She looked at him, but he wasn't facing her. Instead, he watched the door, as if waiting.

He took a while to respond. "To be perfectly honest, they're probably coming to kill us." He turned to Abby, a small smile on his face. "But they were already on our trail. It would have been meaningless to try to avoid them."

"Why didn't they just kill us when they first approached us?" she mumbled. Her eyes were downcast, darkened in the shadowed room, as if she already knew the answer.

He walked towards the armchair opposite her and sat down slowly. With what seemed deliberate slowness, he took one of the cups in front of him and took a small sip. He nodded appreciatively. "Seems like you haven't lost the touch of making sucky coffee."

"But do you think they're strong enough? I ran some calculations, and we're about the strength of two lieutenants. I'm sure we could..." She stopped at Decci's burst of laughter. "What's so funny?"

"Oh Abby, you're such a loser." He continued to laugh, sending a cold chill through the girl. Her expression grew darker as he said, "Abby my dear, we'd be dead within instants if we tried to fight. Two lieutenants? That doesn't mean jack shit against two captains."

"I thought as much," Abby replied, her chin resting upon her hands. "So I guess this could be our last night in existence, huh?"

The two nodded solemnly. Decci continued to sip from his cup, occasionally wiping the corners of his mouth with a small tissue. Abby stared into nothingness, hand lazily stirring the tea in her small cup with a teaspoon.

It was in this position that they remained until they felt the approaching Shinigami and the two completely different textures of Reiatsu. They felt the lashing tongue as it clashed with their own feeble spirit force. Each step forward sent vibrations through the ground as the monumental amount of power got closer and closer. An omnipotent force, the first seemed to hover beside them, constantly prodding them with slaps of pressure to the face. Equally stunning, the second began to tickle the two Hellions; it swelled around them in a flurried frenzy. Never did it bite, it never had to; its presence alone was enough to give the impression that it had absolute control of its being.

Approaching voices resonated from within the storm. "Wow. This is probably the first time you've ever been late huh?" It spoke with a taunting air, laughing and testing its companion to strike.

"And I have no one to blame but you," a second voice snapped, disregarding all aspects of the first and proceeding through the door.

"You'd think they'd have the courtesy to at least greet us at the door. It's just common sense, right?"

"I never want to hear the words 'common sense' come out of your mouth again."

Abby and Decci stood as the two entered the living room. While strange enough that they were in their human forms, it was even more surprising to see that they were drier than sand. The two parties eyed each other warily.

One of the visitors was short and dressed ridiculously. He had on a Britney Spears t-shirt and baggy pink pants, while the rest of his outfit seemed to consist of different colored accessories from LMFAO music videos. He clicked his tongue and waved to Abby, smiling.

The second was tall and dressed formally. He wore a white dress shirt underneath a black trench coat, and his beige pants seemed to complement his tan-colored shoes. He nodded towards Decci, not needing any other signs of recognition. They knew who they were.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Decci said motioning for the opposite party to sit down. The short one looked distastefully at the purple rug before finding space in a red armchair. "I'm assuming that Soul Society has sent you?"

The two Hellions tensed, static racing through their bones as they waited for the Shinigami to respond. Abby began to shiver as the tall one opened his mouth, and the short one licked his lips.

"No, we came here of our own accord," the tall one replied. "We don't get involved with Soul Society's business."

Mountains lifted, and the reaper's scythe was removed from their necks. The tension, a once great presence, was reduced to ash, so Abby and Decci shrugged their shoulders and relaxed.

"I see. Then what do you two gentlemen want?" Abby asked, directing her question towards the tall one, who seemed to be the spokesperson.

Rather than answering, he went silent as his partner responded. "We want to know what you're doing with that Mexican. Oh, and do you have any orange juice? I'm not really feeling the tea."

Decci raised an eyebrow before standing up and going into the kitchen. They could hear him hum while he opened the refrigerator. Abby narrowed her eyes at the flamboyantly dressed male.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not following," she said as Decci returned with the requested glass of juice. "I don't think we've done any experiments on any Mexicans recently." She thought for a second. "Maybe he was African, only really really lightly shaded?"

The tall one shook his head. "No, he was Puerto Rican." He smacked his partner, who choked on his juice. "Racist, there's a difference."

The relaxed air in the room seemed to go cold once more. Every molecule in the air froze, and the furniture almost seemed to shiver as Abby spoke. Her icy tone seemed to calm even the storm outside. "What do you wish to know about that?"

"Don't be rash, Abby," Decci said quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder and holding her back. "I don't want to die just yet."

"Girl, sit your ass down, we're not going to molest him."

There was another smack, and the tall one coughed loudly. "And you wonder why people wonder if we're gay," he muttered to his partner. He shook his head and coughed again

before continuing. "What are you doing with this child?"

Decci stirred a small teaspoon through his cup calmly. "It's a long story, and whether or not you want to hear it is completely up to you."

The short one clapped his hands together before jumping down from his throne and snuggling next to his partner in crime on the floor. Without hesitation, the tall one conquered the abandoned seat, disregarding all "But honey!"s and motioning for Decci to begin.

And so he did.

"Once upon a time," he said, "in a land far far away..."

Like the sadistic bastard he was, Decci spewed the story with much versacchi swagger, and even did the special voices. He went from piano to fortisisisimo, story-telling techniques as epic as Morgan Freeman. There were cringes, followed by high-pitched laughter at the torture scenes, which were then followed by slaps across the face. He entangled his small audience with the tale of misery that had been granted upon a young Puerto Rican child. Aside from the frequent face-slapping, the tall one hadn't moved an inch since the story had began. On the opposite end of the pendulum, his partner seemed to have exhausted himself, lying on his stomach with his face buried in purple.

The beast of the storms had subsided and relieved its pain when Decci finished. The cups lay on the table, forgotten, and the two guests solemnly stroked their chins in deep contemplation.

"As you can tell, this is a deep personal matter, as well as one that we wish to keep on the down low," Abby said.

"Understood. Soul Society would probably execute you for experimenting on humans," the tall one replied, rubbing his eyes. He lowered his hands, revealing tightly shut eyelids blossoming into tired pupils. "You sick sick bastards," he said with a wry smile.

"Even for people like us, that's cold," the short one said before chuckling and fixing his pink fedora. "Did it ever occur to you what might happen if a Hollow were to attack him?"

His tone wasn't serious; however, there was still a taunting edge to it, creeping into the ears of the two Hellions and flicking at the thin membranes of their rationalities. Abby twitched and crossed her arms.

"I did teach him how to avoid them...but he doesn't have any means of defending himself, if that's what you're asking."

"Then I guess something isn't really going according to plan is it?" the short one said, slapping his palms together as his partner took a small keychain out of his pocket. It was in the shape of a small white egg, which read "Made in Soul Society" on the bottom. The tall one handed the keychain over to Abby's extended hand, and the two Shinigami leaned back in their seats as the two Hellions watched in anxiety.

From within the egg came the sound of sneakers hitting the pavement. The teen could be seen passing through the living, eyes set in determination. Like a knife, he slashed his way through the wind. Several times, he stumbled as he limped across the ground. Sweat covered his face and even seemed to be sinking into his ghostly t-shirt.

One hand swayed through the air, and he gripped his golden chain with the other. Crimson streaks ran down the gold, staining the deteriorating coil a bloody red. Its polished metal surface was slowly fading, and pieces were chipped off. A small sliver of emptiness winked back at the spectators as the chain slowly pulled at his skin. He didn't seem to notice the hole at all, so focused was he on his mad dash.

It was in that moment that the spectators all heard it. Heavy breathing. Saliva droplets as large as bowling balls making impact with the concrete. Abby held her breath as she watched Soli swiftly turn around and start running.

Then they saw it.

It was a colossal humanoid figure, standing on two legs and standing over fifteen feet tall. Its mask was circular, with one horn protruding from above its right eyehole. Its mouth was spread open in a large grin as it chased after the running child. Dark green arms as long as stop sign poles and hands the size of amplifiers extended, grasping at the boy. Soli never stopped to look back as he raced forward, a non-existent heart rattling his ghostly rib cage, the feeling of adrenaline being hosed into his veins.

Not a single head turned in the small area as the ear-splitting screech of the Hollow echoed throughout the streets.

"Come…to… me," it scratched through the small audio speaker on the back of the keychain. It had a twisted voice, agonizingly guttural and hoarse. Three rows of teeth glimmered through the screen as it bared its large fangs, ready to eviscerate any being unfortunate enough to find themselves within the chamber of its mouth. Soli only continued to run as the Hollow rasped its requests.

He turned a corner and hurriedly disappeared from the screen. The Hollow growled as it got down on its fours. Reaching into an alleyway, it removed a small Whole, a middle-aged man.

His protests of "Please!" and "Don't!" were ignored as the Hollow chomped on the human form with a crunch of bones. Blood spilled from the body and soaked the Hollow's sharp teeth. The body's lower half continued to struggle as moans of agony emerged from within its mouth. Another _squelch!_ as the second bite was taken, and another spasm overtook the body of the Whole. Legs stuck out at disjointed angles, half an arm fell to the ground, and blood pooled at the Hollow's large feet.

Its raspy voice cackled in joy as it consumed the rest of the spirit. Licking its lips with its large purple tongue, it got back down on all fours.

"I'm…coming," it choked before turning the same corner and following the echoes of the boy's footsteps.

The screen went black for a second, but immediately turned back on again. Horror splashed across Abby's face as Soli tripped on screen. A large green hand reached down and enclosed him like a cage. Squirming sounds as well as yells could be heard from within. The Hollow only giggled as it brought its hand to face value and stared at the terrified teenager.

Large empty eyes and pride that was kneeling to desire met the teenagers struggling form. His limbs flailed in a panicked frenzy as the Hollow slowly opened its hand.

"Stop… it," the Hollow growled. The boy bit down into the flesh of the Hollow, displeasure immediately showing on his face. He grimaced in disgust as the horrendous taste filled his mouth.

The huge jaws opened, and Soli stared into an endless oblivion. A fiery breeze, the smell of hell radiated from the gaping hole.

"Come… no pain if no chew," it said. Its teeth sank into its gums, leaving a squishy black texture for Soli to stand on. There was a long pause, as if the boy were weighing his options. It licked its in anticipation, slightly brushing Soli's face.

There was a minute of silence before the Hollow growled, shaking the boy's form and signaling its patience coming to a most untimely end.

"Fuck you," Soli whispered.

He jumped from the open spaces between the Hollow's fingers. There was an ear-shattering roar as Soli's feet hit the ground. Grunts and growls could be heard directly behind him.

"FUCK!" he screamed in pain as the Hollow slashed open his back with its middle finger. Despite this, he didn't dare slow down. He didn't dare look back. All he could do was listen as the Hollow's anger enveloped him with each passing moment.

Opening its jaws, the Hollow knocked Soli's legs out from underneath him with its nose. Time seemed to slow as the boy fell into the gaping jaws of the disfigured creature.

The short one broke the silence that had settled within the living room, laughing as the boy was scooped up into the mouth of the Hollow. Abby stared, terror-stricken and horrified.

"Didn't see that coming did you?" he directed towards Decci, whose hands were placed behind his head. His impassive face revealed nothing, his eyebrow slightly cocked up and his mouth set in a thin line.

It was only when Abby heard the Hollow shriek that she directed her attention back to the video. Its body had effectively been split in half. Both halves writhed on the ground, blood pouring onto the concrete. It splattered across Soli, who stared at the dying creature, pitiful and worthless.

"KILL! SHINIGAMI!" it continued to scream, grasping at the large wound that had separated its upper body from its legs.

Both Abby and Decci scanned the screen, searching for any sign of a black kimono. None could be seen. Soli had backed up against a wall, already splattered with red liquid as the Hollow's empty eyes fixed on a spot not in the camcorders vision.

"Hado Four, Byakurai."

A feminine voice emerged from the small speakers, and the screen went white for a split second. Abby bit her lip as the camcorder began to refocus. A large hole could be seen in the center of the Hollow's mask. Slowly, then quickly, it began to disintegrate into black particles before evaporating into the atmosphere.

The film soon faded to black, and the two Hellions sat back. There was a brief moment of silence as the two parties waited for the other to move. The two Shinigami sat calmly while the two Hellions organized their thoughts.

"So he is safe," Decci said slowly. He formed each word with his lips as if tasting them. There was a nod from the tall one, and Abby breathed a sigh of relief. "Did she perform Konso?"

"He was too shaken to talk to." The tall one placed the camcorder back into his pocket.

"From what we saw, we're guessing that she didn't want to go on with the ceremony without his approval first."

Another silence followed this as the two Hellions chewed on the thought.

"This Shinigami could turn out to be useful," Abby said, relaxing. "It definitely could have been a lot worse."

"Yes, we might have wasted sixteen years of experimenting and theories," Decci said relieved. "Thank you for that gentlemen."

He smiled and stood up to shake their hands, though they ignored him. The tall one finished the small amount of tea left in his cup before standing up, and the short one rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Gathering their coats, they flipped their collars up before leaving the house with manly struts.

"Peace!" the short one called from the door, and the two exited the house. Abby and Decci stared at each other as they felt the two beings leave the area.

"Well then, Abby, I guess our asses got seriously lucky this time, did they not?"

She merely nodded in response, and sighed before falling back into the couch, exhausted.

HELL IS COLDER THAN ICE CREAM

Soli stared at the corpse as it dissolved into the air. He was tired, and swiftly losing consciousness. _I didn't even know that could happen, _he thought, as want of rest overtook him.

A soothing breeze brushed at his heated skin, cooling him down. He nearly made to lie down, to fall into blissful sleep, but he stopped before he even began.

Before him stood a young Asian lady, looking no older than sixteen. Her skin was a soft pale color, lightened with an almost glowing health. Swept to the right, her bangs shadowed one side of her face, though her eyes seemed to be illuminated by some unknown cause. The black shone, a deep, sparkling color.

She stepped towards him, and he stepped away. He stumbled, though, and before he knew it he was subject to gravity. He felt the weight of his body bring him down, down to the ground—

—and she stepped forward, catching him effortlessly.

She shifted his weight with an incredible strength for her size, pushing him up from the small of his back into a standing position. The motion sent a lashing pain through his back, through the injury he had forgotten he had received.

"Looks painful," she said sympathetically.

He hardly heard her; he was too aware of the fact he was leaning against her shoulder.

"I'm not the best at healing, but I should be good enough to patch up a simple Hollow's... Hey, are you...?"

She stepped back, holding him by the shoulders. He found himself staring into her eyes.

And her lips curved into the smallest smile.

"Now that I look at you, you're kinda cute." She gave a small chuckle. "Ah, who am I kidding."

Pain. Exhaustion. Each weighed heavily in his mind. He could barely see the woman in front of him, the woman who had saved his life. But he saw enough.

"Shini...gami..." he croaked.

She nodded her head, and the black kimono she wore fluttered with the movement. Her sword gave a soft jingle in its sheath. "I'm a Shinigami, yes. And you are?"

The question fell upon deaf ears. He lurched forward, and she caught him before he could fall.

"Thank you," he whispered.

And he fainted in her warm embrace.

**Authors Note**

**Took a while, but its completion is like a baby being born. Hope you enjoy my child, and remember to RandR **

**Xie Xie to my editor, ArchXDeath for the hell we put each other through, and hope that your purple rugs aren't as horrendous as the one I have in mind.**

**Peace XD**


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